Insatiable
by Flesh is Yummy
Summary: C.C. requires only two things: human blood and a partner in misery. Lelouch is not only delicious, but he's perfect for such a despicable existence. vampire!C.C. x Lelouch
1. Insatiable

**Insatiable**

**Warning(s): **Blood sucking (both consensual and...not so consensual). Exactly what it says on the tin. There will also be sexual content in later chapters.

**AN: **This is a work in process for the Code Geass kink meme, which is not all that active at the moment. (Hint, hint: post prompts, post fills!) There will be four chapters in total. This fic is pretty experimental for me both in terms of writing style and the subject matter. But a challenge is fun, right? :D Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Lelouch remembers blood.

It was on the tip of his tongue, a bitter, copper taste. The girl lay slack in his arms, but the red on her skin seemed alive, a twisting, turbulent thing. The taunts, the guns: they all seemed like background noise at the time. Faint and indistinct.

The men continued to jeer. One of them said something. Lelouch looked up and saw their mocking smiles. Their contemptuous faces. He was nothing but a schoolboy to them. They thought they had him cornered. Beaten. Lelouch smirked and stood up.

_I, Lelouch vi Britannia, command all of you to die!_

He thought it, and his wish came true.

* * *

After Lelouch kills his brother and by extension the viceroy of Area 11, he buys his little sister a box of chocolates. Since she can't see, he usually gets her boxes in interesting shapes that she can feel. A star, a diamond, a bear, a flower. This time he chooses a heart. He knows that she will giggle and say he's cheesy, but he will also get to see that beautiful smile of hers.

But, when he enters the clubhouse, he drops the box.

"I'm glad you're home, Lelouch. Shirley told me you'd be back a little late, but I was still a bit worried," Nunnally says with a smile. "C.C. also told me you would be alright."

Lelouch's mouth feels dry. "…C.C.?"

"That's my name," states the green-haired woman sitting at the table. She's occupied with folding a piece of origami paper into a crane. Her small, pale hands work quickly, and her eyes are narrowed. She does not even bother to glance up.

Nunnally giggles. "It's a strange name, isn't it?" Her expression suddenly becomes thoughtful. "…Lelouch, is C.C. your girlfriend?"

"What?" Lelouch splutters. "No! Of course not!"

"He's my partner," C.C. says, finally looking up. Her eyes are wide and golden, and they gaze at Lelouch levelly. "If he fulfills his end of our contract, then he will spend the rest of his days by my side."

Nunnally's eyebrows furrow. "So, it's something deeper than that then? Is she your fiancée?" She frowns. "Are you two engaged?"

Before Lelouch can rebuff these theories, C.C. interjects: "I would like something to drink."

This is all completely insane, but Lelouch knows to take the opportunity. "That's right," Lelouch says, attempting to keep his voice light. "After coming all this way, you must be thirsty, C.C. I apologize for being a poor host. I'll fix you something right up." Lelouch continues a cheerful babble as he yanks C.C. by the elbow and drags her to his room.

He practically flings her inside and slams the door shut. "Who are you? How are you still alive?" he demands, his voice little more than a hiss. "Were you somehow able to revive in Shinjuku?"

Instead of answering immediately, C.C. plops down on his bed. She yawns and kicks off her shoes. Finally, she says, "A gentleman would offer a lady a beverage before interrogating her."

It's so…extraordinarily inane. Lelouch grits his teeth. He has no idea what this woman is playing at. He understands that they formed a contract. That he received power. But that's it. She, on the other hand, seems to have a store of knowledge, and the only way he can hope to gain a sliver of it is by partaking in her childish stipulations.

"Fine," Lelouch mutters. "What do you want?"

"I suppose you'll do for now."

The words take awhile to hit home. They don't hit when C.C. rises off the bed. They don't hit when she grabs him by the shoulders and buries her nose against his neck. They don't hit when she licks a line on the skin covering his jugular vein. They don't even hit when she pierces into him with her teeth.

It's when she begins to _suck._

Lelouch staggers back slightly, but she has latched on like some sort of parasite. He can feel his blood flowing into her mouth. He can _hear_ his blood flowing down her throat. It's so incredibly unexpected that he's speechless even as she pulls back. Her expression is nonchalant even as blood pools on her lips.

"…You're a vampire." He's surprised he's even able to gasp that out.

"I never understood why everyone's so slow on the uptake," C.C. says, plopping down on the bed again. She licks the blood from her lips almost as an afterthought, like it's marinara sauce from a pizza slice. "It's not like I try to hide it."

The pieces are beginning to click. "You gave me your blood," Lelouch says slowly. He presses his fingers against the bite mark on his neck and is somewhat relieved to find that it's not sticky. "That's what gave me my power."

"How are you liking it?" C.C. asks, leaning forward. "The power I gave you?"

And Lelouch can't help but smile at that. As if that's a question worth asking. "I appreciate it," he says. "It allows me to move my plans along faster than I intended."

C.C. crosses her arms over her chest. "You shouldn't. It's not like I'm not getting anything out of this."

Lelouch raises an eyebrow. "Of course I know that. I'll fulfill my end of the contract."

"You'll become a vampire." Her voice is toneless.

Lelouch nods.

"You'll also be responsible for feeding me."

"…_What?"_

C.C. blinks. "I require human blood." She cocks her head to the side and licks her lips. "Did I not make that clear?"

Lelouch frowns. He remembers the words of her contract, and he is almost certain there was no mention of "feeding." "…I never agreed to that."

C.C. shrugs. "Suit yourself," she says, tone as blithe as ever. "It'll wear off in a couple of days, anyway."

Lelouch's eyes widen. "What? I thought—"

"I never guaranteed the power was eternal," she says, cutting him off. "Though I admit I'm used to this sort of entitlement."

"So, if I don't feed you, then my power will go away?" he asks, unable to conceal his disbelief. It's difficult to comprehend. Something so powerful. So commanding, controlling, compelling. Poof. Gone. Just like that.

"Or if I fast," C.C. says. She stands up and looks Lelouch straight in the eye. But then her gaze trails upward. Her eyes are honed in on his forehead. No, he realizes, his _skull._

"Or if I make you forget."

* * *

Lelouch feels the warmth of the sun against his eyelids. When he stretches, it reaches his limbs, encapsulating them in heat. He smiles slowly, lazily and knows he will have to rouse all too soon. In the back of his head, he wonders where C.C. spent the night. Did she get any sleep at all? Leisurely, he opens one eye and then the other. Ah, there she is: leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. The sunlight just brushes against her hair now, but soon it will engulf her, casting a polish on her green hair and the t-shirt of his she's wearing…

The sun. Lelouch's eyes snap all the way open. The sun. She's a vampire.

Before he can think, he's ripping his comforter off his body and nearly tripping over his own feet to close the blinds. He nearly slams his knee into the wall, and his clever fingers suddenly become clumsy as he tries to shut them.

"What are you doing?"

Lelouch finally manages to close them, blocking out that damned sun. He's panting from the few feet it took to run from his bed to the window, and it takes him a minute before he's able to turn on that woman who is wearing an expression that is a little too innocuous.

"What happens when you go out in the sunlight?" Lelouch demands, his hands clenching into fists.

C.C. blinks. It's one slow, long, lackadaisical blink. "I melt."

Her voice is completely devoid of emotion. Deadpan humor. Lelouch grits his teeth. She sucks people's blood. She calls herself a vampire. How was he supposed to know the lore didn't apply? But he says nothing, knowing that getting into an argument will only serve to make him look more foolish. Still, there is a question tugging at his mind, pricking his brain. So later:

"You don't have a weakness?" He asks this in an offhand way as he sketches out battalion formations on a sheet of paper. (After all, he doesn't exactly have strength in numbers. Not yet, anyway). C.C. has already made herself at home, lounging on his bed and staring up at his ceiling like it holds the mysteries to the universe.

"Why would I tell you?"

Lelouch smirks. She fell right into his trap. "Well then." He smirks and folds his elbows behind his head. "So you do have an Achilles' heel."

"Are you going to start wearing garlic cloves or stab me with a stake when you don't get your way?" C.C. says. "I'll tell you now that you'd only be wasting your time."

"If you told me your weakness, then I could protect you."

Silence. It stretches for such a long time that Lelouch looks up. Did she fall asleep? No, she's still staring up at the ceiling, but the expression on her face is…disconcerted? Is that it? Lelouch does not get much time to gauge it because her face quickly becomes a mask once more.

"That isn't necessary," C.C. murmurs, tone bland and monotonous. "If you become a vampire, then you'll learn it soon enough."

She stretches and stands up, and Lelouch expects her to say something else. But she does not. She puts on her straitjacket and stares out at nothing.

* * *

He has to admit that he likes the feeling. It's like an elastic shortening, a barrier falling. The mind becomes softer and more malleable. Easy answers spill from guileless lips. No deception. No lies. Everything is laid out.

When he stops, the elastic stretches again. The barrier is rebuilt. The mind is congealed with defenses.

Oh, wait.

"Don't tell anyone about Shinjuku."

Kallen's eyes widen and then narrow. The grip on her mind is gone. "What are you talking about?" she demands, her mouth twisting into a frown. "What about Shinjuku?"

Lelouch blunders and blathers and makes up terrible excuses, and he knows for certain that C.C. would be smirking if she could see him.

* * *

When Kallen gets champagne spilt on her, Lelouch sees it as the perfect opportunity. Sometimes the comedic clumsiness of his friends has its perks.

He had C.C. change outside in order to ensure the rest of the student council members wouldn't see her. It worked out well. No students were nearby since classes had ended, and C.C. was the farthest thing from self-conscious.

"So, remind me," C.C. says, walking by his side to the clubhouse. "What am I erasing?"

She's wearing an Ashford school uniform (Nunnally's next year), and her long green hair is tied up in twin ribbons. The wind causes it to bounce and flounce off her shoulders. It looks angry whipping around like that, like it wants to break free of its bonds.

"Shinjuku."

She raises a single eyebrow. "All of it?"

Lelouch huffs and tightens his grip on the clothes he's carrying. "Of course not. Only the time I mentioned it to her before I realized my power…" He trails off.

Of course, C.C. is more than willing to finish where he left off. "Has a one time limit?"

Lelouch nods, and C.C. smirks. "Sloppy," she says.

"No one asked you," Lelouch snaps, gritting his teeth. "Just do as you're told."

The wind whips harder, and those ribbons are the only things keeping her hair from turning into a frenzy. "You order me around when it's you who has been careless." C.C. tilts her head to the sky. "I expect compensation, you know."

Lelouch smirks. That will be easy enough to provide. This is war, after all. "Fine," he says. "Any Britannian soldier who survives decimation after my next attack."

"So sure of yourself," C.C. murmurs.

"I have to be," Lelouch says, his smirk broadening into a smile, "if I want to achieve the results I desire."

He expects C.C. to make a jab at his expense for that. Insult his ego. Question his prowess. But she does not. She continues to walk. Her hair thrashes. They reach the clubhouse from a back door.

Thankfully, for a lazy woman who does nothing but lie around all day, C.C. is very light on her feet, and Lelouch does not need to worry about Kallen hearing an extra pair of shoes. He opens the door to the bathroom, and C.C. slips in soundlessly after him.

"I brought you some clothes," Lelouch says, setting the clothes in a basket and keeping his voice light. "They're mine. I hope you don't mind."

"Thanks," Kallen says over the rumble of the shower. "It's fine."

Lelouch swallows when he notices the silhouette of her body through the shadow curtain: her thin waist broadens into wide hips, forming an hourglass figure. He coughs and looks away. He's almost positive C.C. is smirking.

But he does not get to see C.C.'s face because, a mere second later, she rips open the shower curtain.

"Eh? Who are you?" Lelouch glances up and just catches the look of bewilderment on Kallen's face.

"Poisonous gas," C.C. says just as Lelouch turns back around. Even though he can't see, he's unable to tune it out: slamming against a shower wall, a yelp, water stopping, teeth sinking in.

After that, nothing. Lelouch stares at the daedal designs on the bathroom door, even though he could car less about their intricacy. There's a mirror to his side, and he takes quick glances at himself from his peripheral vision. Makes sure there's no fear in his eyes. That his expression is composed.

"You don't have to turn around. It's not as if I require privacy."

Lelouch's peripheral reflection scowls at him. It's an indirect taunt. A challenge. Giving in would prove that he gave a damn about what she thought about him, so he continues to study the labyrinth on the door.

He hears the shower curtain being drawn. "I'm done."

Lelouch exhales. "Even right before?"

"Just like you asked, and she'll be in a daze for a few minutes."

Lelouch turns back around, and he isn't at all surprised to see the tracks of red on C.C.'s cheeks. For some reason, it still unnerves him, though.

"I like her," C.C. says suddenly.

Lelouch raises both eyebrows. "…What?"

"That girl. I must have drained over a pint from her, and she didn't so much as wobble." She tips her head to the side, and one of her pigtails brushes against a bloodstained cheek. "You care about her."

Lelouch snorts and shakes his head. "You're being presumptuous, C.C. I'm willing to cut ties with Kallen and the others in her resistance group if necessary."

"That would be a shame." C.C. rubs some of the blood off her cheeks with the heel of her hand and licks it. "I like her flavor."

"You…" Lelouch clears his throat. "You should get back to my room. Make sure no one sees you."

C.C. simultaneously smirks and nods, slipping out of the bathroom with rosy red cheeks. Lelouch waits for the shower to start up before leaving and joining the rest of the student council in front of a TV screen.

The relief he felt before instantly evaporates because the man on the television screen is Private Suzaku Kururugi, and he's accused of killing Prince Clovis.

* * *

After Zero's big debut, Lelouch spends the next morning monitoring the status of Kururugi Suzaku. When he googles Orange, pictures pop up of Jeremiah Gottwald, eyes wide and bewildered and Suzaku, beaten and bruised, head down, hands tied behind his back.

And then there is Zero standing tall and proud. His arms lifted. All eyes trained on him.

Lelouch can't even think about anything but Suzaku that fool as he goes to class. He uses his phone to look up people's conjectures on the court proceedings for case #107:

_I hope that filthy Eleven rots in prison! He may not have killed P. Clovis, but he's definitely in cahoots with Zero!_

_Well, his charge **was** for killing Clovis, wasn't it…?_

_Didn't Zero kidnap him tho? :/_

_Tttly staged!_

_Well, I think they should torture Kururugi so they can find out more about this Orange character. Apparently, Jeremiah won't crack._

The comments make Lelouch want to throw up, but he manages to hold back the bile. There's no Internet connection in the men's room.

It's _(finally)_ during passing period that he manages to learn the verdict: Private Suzaku Kururugi from the Area 11 military forces has been acquitted for the murder of Prince Clovis due to lack of evidence against him. He sighs in relief.

"Hi, Lulu. What are you looking at?"

Lelouch immediately closes his laptop. "Noth—" His relief is short-lived. Only a few yards behind Shirley is a green-haired girl wearing his clothes and twirling under the trees.

_That leech…_

She even waves at him! Lelouch doesn't realize he's clenching his fists and gritting his teeth until Shirley's eyes widen in concern. "Lulu, are you okay? Is something wrong?" She starts to turn around…

…but Lelouch stands up and grabs her face just in time.

At least C.C. _now_ has the sense to scamper out of sight. When Lelouch returns his attention to Shirley, her face is beet-red, and her eyes are very, very wide. Damn it. How is he supposed to cover his tracks? Ah…

"You have beautiful eyes," Lelouch says. Shirley's eyes widen even more, and she makes a noise akin to a squeak. "…Like emeralds glittering in the sunlight."

The effect is almost instantaneous. Shirley's mouth—an "o" of surprise—twists into a pout, and her eyebrows furrow in annoyance. "That isn't very funny, Lulu," she says, face still flushed. "Did Rivalz dare you to say that?"

"…Something like that." C.C. is nowhere in sight; Lelouch allows his hands to drop. "I have to run to chem. class. I'll see you around!"

He dashes off, not even giving Shirley time to say "good-bye." He needs to have a talk with that woman…

Unfortunately, when he reaches the roof, it takes him more than a minute to regain his breathing. C.C. glances at him before leaning against the railing and focusing on a building or a tree or the breeze. Apparently, all these things are more interesting to her than his concerns or her own selfishness.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he finally demands, voice still slightly croaky.

"…I was hungry."

Lelouch's eyes widen. "You've been feeding on students?"

"Only one, and I erased her memory afterward," she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I made sure no one saw."

"You can't just—"

"There was also an anatomy class doing some sort of blood typing lab so I had a few samples," she continues. "Some tasted a bit better than others. Do you have any friends taking anatomy?"

"Shirley…and Rivalz, I think. But what does that have to do with—"

"That explains it then."

She turns around then, expression slightly amused as if Lelouch doesn't understand something that's obvious. Her words explain absolutely nothing to him, but he can't bring himself to admit that.

Instead, he turns his face to the side and says, "You don't belong here. If you've fed, then there's no reason for you to stay."

"I never said my appetite was sated."

He locks eyes with her. She licks her lips. Lelouch heaves a heavy sigh and begins to unbutton his jacket. She watches him. He unbuttons the first few buttons on his white undershirt. She walks toward him.

"Only this once," Lelouch says. When C.C. raises an eyebrow, he elaborates by saying, "This type of thing…it should be done in private."

C.C. cocks her head to the side. She is right in front of him now. "…Do _you_ eat in private?"

"No, but that's—"

He's cut off when her teeth sink into him. No matter how many times she does this, he cannot stop his involuntary reactions: his body stiffening, his eyes widening, the slight tremor when she starts to stuck. All he can do is bear it the best he can. Keep his mouth clamped shut and stare at some point in the distance. Try to think of it as a shot even though a shot would never last this long…

In a way, it's funny. He always feels most anxious around her when she does this. He feels as if he's losing all of his control in these moments. When it ends, he feels a distinct sense of liberation.

C.C. always looks satisfied when she takes his blood.

* * *

When Suzaku begins attending Ashford, Lelouch invites him to dinner. He tells himself it's for Nunnally's sake more than anything else. She had been fretting over him since he had been charged with Clovis' murder. Even when Zero rescued him, she continued to fret.

("I'm glad Zero saved Suzaku, but what do you think he's trying to do?" Nunnally asked as Lelouch tucked her into bed. "Does he really think he can liberate Japan?"

Lelouch was glad she couldn't see his frown. "I wouldn't know, Nunnally." He kissed her on the forehead. "But no matter what, I'll do anything I can to keep you safe. Remember that.")

Now Nunnally and his friend laugh together in the dining room as Lelouch refills a teapot in the kitchen. C.C. is there, of course, even though he told her to stay in his room.

"That boy," she murmurs. "He's the soldier from Shinjuku." She's leaning against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest in a cavalier manner.

"Yes," Lelouch says, slightly terse. "He's a friend. What about him?"

"Nothing," C.C. says, stretching her arms over her head. "I just thought I smelt something good."

He doesn't ask her what she means by that. He does not want to know. Lelouch finishes refilling the teapot and rejoins his sister and friend.

* * *

Lelouch isn't entirely sure how Suzaku manages to rope him into actually attending gym class. Puppy dog eyes and a "pretty please" really should not have worked on him, but they do. Suzaku smiles an extraordinarily dopey smile and acts like he achieved some remarkable feat. Lelouch rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up just a little.

They change next to each other in the locker room. Lelouch almost forgot how ridiculous the gym uniforms were. Collared shirts and spandex. An unflattering combination to say the least.

He removes his shirt and pants, and that is when he notices Suzaku staring openly at his bare chest. His eyes are very wide like he can't believe what he's seeing. Lelouch flushes but resists the urge to cover himself, and, suddenly, that big, dopey smile reappears on Suzaku's face once more.

"Congratulations, Lelouch."

_What the hell?_ But when Lelouch looks down, his eyes widen to the size of saucers because C.C.'s bites trail down his neck to his chest. There is a route of red on his pale skin, and that's when he _realizes._

"This isn't what it looks like!" Lelouch splutters, his face becoming red and hot. He never had to worry about this because the collar of his school uniform was so high, and gym class had never even been a consideration.

But Suzaku—damn him damn him damn that _idiot_—made him drop his guard.

Suzaku just chuckles and crosses his arms to his chest. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Lelouch." He has the gall to look amused! "It's normal to have a girlfriend at this age."

"It's not – she's not –!"

"She's pretty possessive, huh?" Suzaku cocks his head to the side, and his eyes trail even lower. "You have a lot on you."

"You're an idiot," Lelouch spits, throwing on his gym shirt in a frenzy. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

And so Suzaku the idiot spends the entire gym period trying to squeeze questions out of him. Is she someone he knew? What's she like? Can he meet her? Lelouch tries to throw a basketball at his face, but he just catches it and makes a three-pointer.

* * *

Lelouch appraises the damage when he returns home. Six on his neck. Four on his chest. Her purchased concealer and a box of Band-aids at a local pharmacy, and he now places them on the bathroom counter.

He dips a finger into the concealer and uses it on the majority of the…blemishes. He reserves the Band-aids for the reddest marks: one on his neck and another on his chest.

"What? Do you think I'm infected?"

She's in the bottom right corner of the mirror, her eyes locked on his and her face its usual mask of inscrutability. Lelouch grits his teeth.

"Go away, leech."

C.C. cocks her head to the side. "Someone saw."

"Go. Away," he enunciates.

"I wonder who it was."

Lelouch's eyes narrow. She knows who it is. She always knows. He places the cap back on the bottle of concealer and turns around to face her. He wants to glare at her, but she breaks eye contact to stare at his neck and chest.

"You should have bought another bottle of make-up," she says, her expression as blasé as ever. "You'll run out soon enough."

That's when she finally, _finally_ goes away, turning her back on him and padding out of his room, not allowing him to get the last word in.

Then at dinner, Nunnally asks Lelouch what a hickey is, and he nearly chokes on his water. His little sister's eyebrows are raised in concern, and she looks genuinely curious. Damn that leech.

"Did C.C. tell you about them?" Lelouch asks, dabbing his mouth with his napkin, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, but she wouldn't tell me what they were. She said you had a lot though," Nunnally says, her delicate face creasing with worry. "Is it something bad?"

There is a long pause. Finally, Lelouch says, "Yes, Nunnally, they are very bad." His tone becomes firmer. "Never allow anyone to give you one."

Nunnally looks even more confused than before, but she bites her lip and says nothing. Lelouch stares at his plate and picks at his salad, allowing the silence to drown out his thoughts. When he finally looks up, he notices Sayoko at the end of the table, head bent but lips curved into a knowing smirk.

* * *

C.C. does not require sleep. She spends the morning lounging around and nighttime pacing about. Therefore, she does not need a bed, and she certainly does not need to be crawling into Lelouch's.

"Get out, C.C.," Lelouch hisses when he feels a weight settle beside him. The bed sighs, and he turns to the sight of a full head of green hair.

"It's convenient like this," the head says.

Lelouch grunts but says nothing. He hopes that if he ignores her, then she'll just go away. Instead, she turns around, and her eyes are wide and bright.

"In case I want a midnight snack," she says.

Lelouch does not have much time to think before C.C. practically pounces on top of him like a lion would its prey. Her movements are always so sloth-like that it catches him off guard. It is not until she has grabbed both of his wrists that he begins to struggle.

"No," Lelouch utters, squirming fruitlessly beneath her. He tries to keep his voice firm and unwavering, but he sounds embarrassingly breathless. C.C. is straddling him now and grabs both of his wrists, and he can feel her fingertips press against his tendons. "Stop it."

C.C. stops moving and stares at him for a long moment. Finally, she says, "You act like a girl about to lose her virginity." Her lips quirk up into a smirk. "But that isn't so far from the truth, is it?"

"What are you…?"

"Hush." She presses a fingertip against Lelouch's mouth, and he falls silent.

Then C.C. lets go of one of his hands, and Lelouch feels a pang of relief. This is probably just one of her little games. She is probably just trying to get a rise out of him. Yes, yes, that is it.

But then his blood runs cold when she places his other hand to her lips. He freezes when she slips his index finger into her mouth.

She stares him straight in the eye as she sucks on his finger. It's a strange juxtaposition: her cold hand and warm mouth, and Lelouch wants to say something. Command something. But there is no point. Words work wonders on people, but they hold little bearing to her.

There is a slight prick, Lelouch winces, and then his finger slides out of her mouth. It is shiny from her saliva, and there is a small bubble of red at the tip. C.C. says nothing when she rises off of him. Just licks her lips and leaves. Lelouch spends an inordinate amount of time staring at the tiny crimson globule.

In the morning, he puts a Band-Aid on it. Shirley is the only one who bothers to ask about it, and he tells her it's a paper cut. What else would it be?

She flushes in embarrassment and apologizes for asking a stupid question.

* * *

Zero calls them POWs.

He informs the Black Knights that keeping a select few alive is necessary. A few broken bones, and they may reveal classified information. Necessary information. If they're going to win the war against Britannia, achieve the results they want, then they have to sometimes take the less than savory path.

Lies, lies, all lies. They are her sustenance.

* * *

The bodies begin to stack up. They putrefy and rot, and C.C., of course, does not give a damn.

"You can't just…" Lelouch trails off and surveys the room. The Britannian corpses are sucked dry of blood and are propped about like scattered toys. Like marionettes with missing strings. Like toy soldiers with their shiny boots and brass buttons. He exhales. "The Black Knights' headquarters aren't the place for…_this._"

"Then what is?" She sits in the center of a circle of stiffs like she's in the mush pot for some infernal game of Duck Duck Goose. When she cocks her head to the side, the light catches on her lips. They are bright red. It looks like she's wearing lipstick.

Lelouch turns his face to the side because his eyes are beginning to water. The stench is overpowering. Some of the bodies have been decaying for weeks. "That's for you to figure out. Just get rid of them immediately."

"You gave them to me."

"Yes," Lelouch says curtly. "What of it?"

C.C. rises and steps over several bodies so she's only a few feet from Lelouch. Her expression is accusatory, and her eyes are narrowed. "You're telling me to throw away my own presents."

"If I gave you a piece of candy, then you would still be expected to throw away the wrapper," Lelouch snaps.

Instantaneously, the accusation on C.C.'s face dissipates, and her eyes widen. The corners of her mouth curve up slightly – the barest of smiles. "Then you're saying they're garbage?" she asks, and there is no denying the sliver of amusement in her voice.

Lelouch grimaces but says nothing. He knows what he has to do. He rounds up a few of the new recruits for a meeting and effortlessly crushes the barriers around their minds. When the others leave, they stay with smiles. They continue to smile as they cram the decomposing corpses into packing crates and their shoddy knightmare frames. The beams never fade as they soar in the sky, the odor permeating their cockpits. Stupid, toothy grins as they drop the bodies into a deserted desert and release the lit matches. Lelouch watches the pile burn.

Ashes are easier to dispose of.


	2. Ubiquitous

**Insatiable**

**Warning(s): **Blood sucking (both consensual and...not so consensual). Exactly what it says on the tin. There's also inexplicit sexual content in this chapter. I'm really stretching this 'T' rating, guys. ;)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Code Geass. Forgot to put that for the first chapter. Bleh.

**AN: **Thank you so much for all the reviews, guys! I'm glad you all find this interesting so far. Also, no, I don't write at an incredible speed. This chapter has been written for awhile. I was going to post it on Friday, but I'm an impatient person. What do I have to say about this chapter? It's weird. Really weird. You'll see why.

* * *

She's ubiquitous. There's no other way to describe it. During a meeting with the Black Knights, she will slip her hand underneath the table and pull off his gloves, running her fingers along the path of veins on his forearm, pressing against his pulse.

At school, he sees red dots splattering the air. He blinks, and they disappear. One day, he drifts off in class and dreams of being flooded by blood. The stuff pours into his nostrils and flows down his throat until he is suffocating as his vision reddens. Suddenly, he awakes with a start, and a couple kids laugh. The teacher hands him a test and tells him she hopes he studied. He sets the curve.

Tamaki calls him for some inane reason, and she straddles him, her mouth hot against his throat. Tell that vulgar man I'm not your mistress, she says before biting down on his neck. He drops his cell phone instead.

At night, she slips underneath his sheets and presses her cold hands against his skin. He stifles a shiver and stays mute as she feeds. It's usually brief. One time, however, she latches on like a parasite and sucks with fervor, gulping down blood like a thirsty dog. He thrashes and tries to throw her off, but she keeps him pinned, knocking back his blood as the seconds tick by. He wonders if this is it. If he is going to die. But then she pulls back with a wet, smacking sound, and it's over. At least for tonight.

In the morning, he wakes up and sees red. Tiny flecks dot his arms. He sits up and pulls back the covers, and there's a long red streak on his bedspread.

She comes up from behind while he's scrubbing his bloodstained comforter over the sink. He does the laundry regularly, but he's never had to wash anything of his own by hand. Nunnally occasionally spills things on herself, but it's never her fault.

"It looks like you've finally become a woman, Lelouch," C.C. says blandly, hovering over the sink.

Lelouch grits his teeth and scrubs harder. He knows better than to indulge her. Better than to respond but…"It looks you never learned table manners, leech. How old are you?"

C.C. doesn't respond and so Lelouch continues scrubbing. Half the stain is gone now, and he feels a slight sense of victory. C.C. can't leave a permanent mark. Not on him and not on his coverlet.

"It's rude to ask a lady her age."

There's something about her tone that makes Lelouch look up. C.C.'s eyes are narrowed, and she swipes her tongue along her upper lip. Lelouch goes rigid.

Of course he has to pay for his rudeness.

* * *

Wednesday is cross-country day for gym. The less physically fit students dubbed it cross-_hell_ day. It involves running laps around Ashford's field until the period ends.

Lelouch had never partaken in a cross-hell day, and he planned not to until one day Suzaku begs and pleads and offers to buy him ice cream as an incentive.

"It's for your own good," Suzaku asserts, eyes wide and animated. "Shirley's right. If you never exercise, then you're bound to fail your fitness exam."

Lelouch tells Suzaku to butt out. He tells him to leave him alone. Shut up. Stop being an idiot. Somehow he still ends up on Ashford's field on a frigid Wednesday morning wearing nothing but his ridiculous collared shirt and spandex shorts. Suzaku and Shirley are both smiling at him, but he pretends not to notice and instead stares at the gray, overcast sky.

When the gym teacher blows the whistle, it feels like his joints have locked up. He stumbles forward as other students sprint ahead of him. Suzaku is already leading the pack. Shirley is close behind.

Lelouch inhales gulps of air and forces his legs to keep moving. Because of the rain, Ashford's lush, grassy field has transformed into a mud pit, and he can hear his sneakers making a sickening _squish squash_ noise with every step. The second to last runner is already several meters ahead of him, and Lelouch grits his teeth. Although he has resigned himself to being in he back of the pack, he can't stop now. He has to go on.

Three-quarters into the first lap, and he's already huffing and puffing, sweat rolling down his cheeks and arms and back. His lungs feel bereft of oxygen. He feels light-headed, like he has to inhale faster and faster to get enough air.

The promise of ice cream isn't worth this.

"Lelouch!"

Lelouch looks up to see Suzaku running past him, strides long and effortless and powerful. He shoots Lelouch an easy smile and shouts, "Keep it up!" before sprinting ahead.

Lelouch wants to make a retort, but it takes too much effort to form words. Besides, even if he tries, it will most likely come out as a feeble rasp. He miserably watches as Suzaku rounds a corner, already a good hundred meters ahead of him.

About fifteen seconds later, Shirley runs up beside him. Her running form isn't nearly as graceful as Suzaku's, but it does not look very strenuous for her either.

"Lulu, are you okay?" she asks, slowing down to jog beside him. She looks extraordinarily concerned, and Lelouch wonders what shape he must be in to warrant such concern.

Rather than respond verbally, Lelouch nods. Words cost precious air, after all. Shirley gives him a (concerned) smile and runs past him. Her ponytail bounces cheerfully after her, like a friendly wave. Lelouch does not even know if he has the strength to wave.

Okay, he has just been lapped. By two people. Not the end of the world. Just needs to keep moving. Lelouch continues to run even as his chest tightens and his lungs ache. He feels even more light-headed than before, but that's okay. Running doesn't really require thinking.

Then he falls. Either he trips or his legs collapse under him. Probably the latter. Lelouch blinks and gazes up at the dreary sky, dully listening to the stampede of several people running past him. He thinks about just staying there, kneeling on the muddy grass and staring at the ugly sky, but then he hears his name being called by someone. That's his cue to get up. Keep running. Using most of his strength, he pushes himself off the ground. He feels woozy and wobbly. There are grass stains on the palms of his hands, and muck is streaked across his thighs and calves. He barely registers it.

He begins to move his legs again even though they feel like lead. His lungs were burning before, but now they are an inferno. When Lelouch hears a _squish squash_ from behind him, it's Suzaku running past again. That's the moment Lelouch's legs give out again, but this time he falls on his face. The mud feels nice, though. Cool and soothing. In fact, he feels slightly resentful when someone turns him over.

He blinks and makes out wobbly forms and two pairs of green eyes. Is he seeing double? Doesn't matter. He shuts his eyes.

* * *

When Lelouch regains consciousness, he groans. It smells like antiseptic and blossoms.

"He…he's awake!"

Is that…Shirley's voice? His eyes snap open, and he's greeted to the beige-colored walls of Ashford's infirmary. He's no stranger to this place. The few times he attends gym class usually result in a pulled muscle or sprained ankle.

He grunts and sits up in bed, surveying his surroundings. Around the room, there are various flowers in vases. Enough to fill a florist's shop. There's also an abundance of balloons with shiny surfaces that read things like "FEEL BETTER SOON" in big, blocky letters. One would think he is terminally ill.

"About time, buddy. We were starting to get a little worried."

He turns toward the voice, and there is the entire student council by his bedside with the exception of Suzaku. Nunnally sits the closest to him, her little face creased with worry. Shirley also looks rather fretful, biting her lip with wide eyes fixed on him. Milly and Rivalz wear wide, relieved grins. Kallen and Nina's expressions are somewhere in between.

"Suzaku had to go back to base, but he carried you all the way here," Milly says, voice cheery and bright. "I'm sure he'll be relieved to know you're doing well."

Oh. Lelouch frowns. That's right. He fainted. During gym.

(Because of _her_).

Rivalz snorts. "If you ask me, it's a good thing he's _not_ here." Shirley and Milly send him pointed looks, and he raises his eyebrows. "What? He might have started bawling out of happiness."

"He didn't bawl, Rivalz," Shirley snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. "And it's a good thing he's willing to show his emotions to us. It's sweet."

"Speaking of sweet," Milly says, smile turning mischievous, "look what Shirley got her precious Lulu~"

From behind her back, Milly pulls out a hot pink teddy bear holding a felt heart to its chest. Shirley's face immediately reddens.

"Milly!"

"She was even thinking about getting it monogrammed!"

"W-was not! Give that back!"

Milly laughs and laughs, and Shirley struggles to rip the incriminating teddy bear from her hands. In the process, she manages to trip over her own two feet and knock over three vases at once. Kallen manages to catch one, but the other two fall and shatter, spilling water, frosted glass, and sunflowers all over the floor.

Lelouch blearily watches the ensuing mayhem, feeling fuzzy and enervated. There's a dull ache at the back of his head, and his legs feel like concrete. Nunnally is still frowning, and there's a furrow between her eyebrows. She's usually amused by the student council's antics, but, apparently, not even this mêlée over a teddy bear can cheer her up.

Lelouch reaches out and wordlessly smoothes out the furrow with his thumb. She smiles, but it's not big and brilliant. It's melancholic. Pensive. Right now she looks much older than her fourteen years.

* * *

The school nurse gives Lelouch pills and tells him to come back if he feels faint. Lelouch smiles and thanks her, and he thinks that's the end of it until she takes out a clipboard.

"One last thing, Mr. Lamperouge," she says, eyebrows furrowing as she scribbles something down. "I ran some tests on you, and it seems your body's blood supply is rather low. Did you donate blood recently? If so, it would be advisable that you don't engage in arduous physical activity for the next few days." She glances up then, face friendly and accommodating. She doesn't suspect anything. But still…

"No, I didn't," Lelouch says, still smiling. The nurse's brittle barriers cave in. "…And you don't think so either."

"Oh, yes," the nurse says. Her eyes widen, and her mouth curves into a lopsided beam. "Of course. How silly of me."

How silly, indeed. Lelouch returns to his room and is not at all surprised to find C.C. reclining on his bed, arms and legs splayed out. He is, however, surprised by her words.

"I suppose this means I'll have to abstain from you for awhile."

Lelouch blinks. "…What?"

C.C. sits up in bed and rolls her shoulders. Her movements are reminiscent of a lazy cat, although Lelouch now knows better than to think of her as sluggish. "It wouldn't benefit either of us if I killed you, would it?"

Lelouch steps forward and frowns. "How did you…"

"News travels fast," she says. When Lelouch continues to stare at her blankly, she shrugs. "I wasn't aware you were something of a celebrity here. I could hear some girls outside the window fretting over their weakling of a vice president."

Lelouch raises an eyebrow. "Look who's being careless now."

"Careless?" C.C. asks, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't die, did you?" She suddenly stands up, and it's very reminiscent of the way she moved before she sucked his blood for the first time. Lelouch instinctually lurches back, but C.C. grabs him by the sleeve. "Besides, I told you I'd desist."

"Desist," Lelouch repeats, feeling trapped. But he can't back down. He stares into her eyes, and she holds his gaze.

"Temporarily," she murmurs before descending on his neck.

But she does not draw blood. His breath catches in his throat as her teeth graze against the skin covering his Adam's apple, and Lelouch knows she must be smirking. Even if it's small, it's there, satisfied and inimitable.

The teeth disappear. Then tongue. It slides along his jaw line, past his chin, and then it stops at a spot on his neck. Pulse point. Lelouch shivers.

C.C. pulls back and licks her wan lips. "Let's see how long I last."

* * *

Outside, the storm roars. The lightning crackles. C.C. is sopping wet because she felt the need to feed during a downpour (snagged an equestrian club boy headed back from the stables), but she does not bother to towel dry herself. When Lelouch mentions this, she says she doesn't get cold because she's cold enough already as it is. But thanks for the concern. Lelouch grits his teeth when her ass leaves watermarks on his couch and bed.

She pads over to the bathroom, and Lelouch clings to the overly sanguine idea that she's actually taking his "drying off" suggestion. But no. When he follows her inside, water continues to cascade down her pale thighs and calves, creating pools on the tile floor. She's staring in the mirror, touching her cheeks with her fingertips, expression inscrutable as always.

"They look like tears," she says softly.

He has no idea what she's talking about until one runs down her jaw and drips onto the hollow of her throat. The water droplets. Lelouch raises his eyebrows. He never thought of C.C. as human, but she must have been. Perhaps she's having a wave of nostalgia.

"You can't cry, can you?"

C.C. doesn't look at him. Doesn't even bother to look at his reflection. "I used to," she says. She presses harder against her face, and the droplets continue to descend. "I also used to blush."

Lelouch tries to imagine this. C.C. crying, sobs wracking her body, face ruddy and wet. C.C. blushing, laughing so hard her belly aches. Or flushing, mouth gasping and body arching. The expressions seem so strange. Almost cartoonish. "That's hard to believe," he blurts out before he can think better of it.

If C.C. is offended, she does not show it. She continues to trace her face for a while until she suddenly flicks the droplets off her cheeks. She exits the bathroom. The tile floor has transformed into a lagoon. Lelouch sighs and gets the mop.

* * *

Shirley, on the other hand, cries genuine tears.

He knows this even if he can't tell the real from the rain. Her eyes, usually bright and animated, hold such sorrow and misfortune. She shakes, and he is certain it is not from the cold.

"Why did Zero kill my father?" Her voice trembles with her body. "Why did he have to die? I…I don't want this."

Lelouch has no words. The umbrella drops, and then her cold, wet body presses against his, seeking comfort and consolation.

He holds her, kisses her, and feels sick to his stomach.

* * *

The rain continues to pitter and patter. Lelouch's phone buzzes, but he does not answer it. C.C. rolls over on his bed, and he knows she's going to speak. That infuriating leech.

"So you finally realized that war kills people," she says, not even bothering to mask her tone of amusement. "It took you long enough."

Lelouch grits his teeth. "C.C…."

"And it really just took one grief-stricken girl to snap it all into perspective. How pathetic." C.C. stands up and walks toward him, the ends of her straitjacket brushing against the floor. "You've been killing people left and right. Feeding me the leftovers. Did you really not realize what you were doing?"

"Shut up!"

C.C. places a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches. "I just thought you would know by now what you had gotten yourself into. That's all."

Lelouch inhales sharply and shifts on the couch, but he does not turn around to look at her. "Of course I know," he hisses, eyes narrowing. "I've always known."

C.C. makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh and leans closer. Her hair falls over his shoulder, and her nose presses against his neck. A second later he feels the graze of teeth. "Then why the uncertainty?" The teeth press harder. "I thought the great Zero never wavered."

Lelouch grabs the fabric of the couch and clenches it in his fists. He doesn't want to think about this. Doesn't want to answer. The teeth press even harder, and he diverts. "…What was that about abstinence?"

A puff of air against his neck. "Fine. I'll abstain." She withdraws, but Lelouch does not exhale. C.C.'s eyes are locked on his, and her expression is darker than he's ever seen it. "…Just don't disappoint me."

He leaves. He can't take it. He gets in the shower and turns it on searing hot, hoping it will drown out of thoughts. But they continue to clash in his head, and he sees images: his father, Euphie, Suzaku, Ougi, Kallen, Clovis, C.C., and…Nunnally. Her gentle smile. Her kind face.

Lelouch knows what he has to do.

* * *

Suzaku killed his father. As a result, he became an entirely different person. Different set of morals. A different philosophy. All this time he has been seeking atonement through some sort of oblique suicide.

Nunnally does not know this. She treats Suzaku just the same, giggling at his dumb jokes and chatting with him about whatever crosses her mind. If anything, she's even fonder of him than before because of his role in saving her life.

However, Lelouch doubts that she would treat Suzaku differently if she knew. Lelouch is happy with this. He doesn't want anything to change, and he wants Suzaku to know that they care about him unconditionally. Regardless of his past.

That's why he invites Suzaku to dinner after the incident with Mao. He wants them to all feel like family.

Unfortunately, Suzaku hesitates. "I appreciate the offer, Lelouch, but I, uh…"

Lelouch smiles easily. "The engineering department can't be cutting into your free time too much, can it?"

Suzaku opens his mouth as if to argue that point, but then he shuts it and shakes his head. Lelouch raises an eyebrow. He wonders what caused this change in heart. "I…no." Suzaku smiles. "Well, I'll see you then. Thank you for inviting me."

Lelouch smiles back as well. Everything is back to normal. Nothing about their relationship has changed. He walks back to the clubhouse in high spirits.

"I'm hungry," C.C. complains as soon as he enters his room.

Of course. Lelouch's smile fades, but he begins to unbutton his tunic. It's when he begins to unbutton his undershirt that C.C. speaks again.

"Not for you."

Lelouch looks up and frowns. C.C. is lying on his bed, which isn't unusual, but there is something about the way her body drapes over the side that signals a lack of vitality. Her face is also more pallid than usual.

"You don't look well."

C.C. burrows her face into a pillow, but Lelouch is still able to make out her muffled voice. "Do you want to know one of the reasons why I left Mao?"

"That's a non sequitur." When C.C. doesn't respond, he continues. "I couldn't care less about that man now that I know he's dead."

"It isn't." C.C. lifts her head up, and even her hair looks limp. "I left him because he was unable to feed me properly."

"Couldn't bring you enough bodies?"

C.C. shakes her head. "No, he killed many people." She locks eyes with Lelouch. "He was devious. You should know that by now."

"Then why…?"

"That's not how it works. Quality comes before quantity." C.C. smiles, and there's something vaguely melancholic about it. "I became Mao's entire world. No one else mattered to him. He had no friends. No family. When his power overtook him, I was the only person he could stand to be around."

"Yes. Your point?"

C.C.'s smile widens. "He was the only one who tasted good to me."

Lelouch nods, unsurprised. From C.C.'s roundabout comments, he had already formed this hypothesis. Now he's just having it confirmed. "So Kallen…"

"Not wonderful," C.C. says, "but better than most. There are really only two people…"

Lelouch's eyes widen at the sudden image of Nunnally, alone and defenseless. She smiles her sweet, kind smile, and C.C. licks her lips and then descends, mouth open, teeth bared…"You're not touching a hair on Nunnally's head!"

C.C. smirks. "I _knew_ you'd object to that." She sits up and stretches languorously. "I was actually thinking Suzaku."

Lelouch blinks. "…What?"

"I want to suck him. To be honest, I've been wanting to since Shinjuku," C.C. deadpans.

The double entendre does not go past Lelouch, but he manages to restrain a blush. That leech can be so…vulgar. "N-no. Forget it."

C.C. does not look all that surprised by his answer. "Is it because he's your friend?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Shirley's your friend, and what you did to her was much more permanent."

The fact that she can even compare this with…_that_ makes Lelouch's blood boil. The circumstances are nothing alike! "That's different, and you know it! That wasn't some sort of—"

"Whim?" C.C. interjects. "This isn't just for _my_ sake, you know."

Lelouch's eyebrows knit together. "…What do you mean?"

C.C. shrugs. "You get a do over. If you wish, you can reveal yourself as Zero. In the beginning, when you tried to get Suzaku to switch sides, he rejected you." Lelouch flinches at that, but C.C. merely continues, unmoved. "But he was only rejecting Zero. He doesn't know that his childhood friend is the man behind the mask."

And, although C.C. has her own selfish reasons for offering this deal, Lelouch finds himself considering it. He can talk to Suzaku. Try to reason with him. But still, so much has changed. "I doubt it," Lelouch finally says. "He seems adamant about his way of thinking. His ideology completely changed after he killed the prime minister."

"That doesn't matter. There are no repercussions. If Suzaku doesn't change his mind, then I can erase his memories. If he does, then you have a friend on your side."

And perhaps that sort of thing might have been possible the night Lelouch rescued Suzaku from execution. Before Zero had actually done anything deemed "wrong." But now? No way. Lelouch shakes his head. "That might have worked in the beginning, but after everything…"

"Are you scared? Is that it?" C.C.'s expression isn't unfathomable like usual. It's cocky and self-assured. And it infuriates Lelouch.

"No," Lelouch snaps. "Of course not."

"You fear confrontation," C.C. continues. "You're afraid of what he'll say."

"No, I…"

"You told Kirihara you were willing to embark on the path of blood, but you can't even do this?"

_That_ hits home. Lelouch grits his teeth. "Fine. I'll tell him, but you have to be there when I do it tonight." He walks toward her and straightens his back, so he looms over her. "And only just this once."

"Alright," C.C. says, eyes brightening. "Just tell me when to make my entrance."

* * *

Lelouch arranges a play date for Nunnally at the last minute. Sayoko is to accompany her. When Nunnally asks why he arranged for her to meet up with a friend when she's capable of doing that on her own, he trips over his tongue and stammers out that it's good to spend time with friends every now and then.

But Nunnally isn't stupid. "It's because you want to get rid of me, isn't it?" She's smiling, no hint of accusation in her voice, but Lelouch still feels guilty. There's no use trying to hide it.

"I'm sorry, Nunnally," he says, placing his hand over hers. "It…it's just for tonight. There's something important I need to get done."

Nunnally nods, but her smile is rickety. Lelouch bids her and Sayoko farewell, feeling as if an insect is crawling up his throat. Little antennae brushing against his trachea. It's even worse when Suzaku arrives.

It's worse because he finally realizes what he's doing. He realizes how senseless this is. With Kallen, it was different. It was _necessary_. If she had put two and two together and come to the conclusion that he was Zero, then his plans could have gone to shambles. It's not like that with Suzaku. He's not doing this because he needs to; he's doing it because he _wants_ to.

"Where are Nunnally and Sayoko?" Suzaku asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I brought Nunnally flowers. I know she likes the smell." He holds out a bouquet of yellow and pink roses.

Somehow Lelouch manages to swallow the insect. "It turns out Nunnally had other plans." He smiles amiably, cocking his head to the side. "Are you _that_ disappointed it's just the two of us?" he teases.

"No. Of course not." Suzaku grins. "I always enjoy spending time with you."

_Maybe not after tonight_, Lelouch's mind supplies, but Lelouch shakes himself of that thought. No, C.C. will erase Suzaku's memory if things go awry. She had promised.

Lelouch puts the flowers in a vase and feeds Suzaku a large dinner complete with salad, biscuits, and enough pasta to feed a small country. When Suzaku takes seconds, Lelouch has the sickening thought that he's fattening up Suzaku for some sort of sacrificial ritual, and he loses most of his appetite.

Afterward, they play chess. Multiple times. Lelouch knows he's stalling, but he can't bring himself to breech the subject as he beats Suzaku game after game.

Finally, after putting Suzaku in check for the umpteenth time, it's Suzaku who takes the initiative. "Not that this isn't fun, Lelouch," Suzaku says, smiling sheepishly, "but don't you think beating me five thousand times is enough?"

Lelouch sighs and touches his queen, running his fingers along her stem. "I'm sorry," he says softly, gazing at the sea of black on the chessboard (only Suzaku's white knight remains). "There's just…something I want to talk to you about."

He looks up, but Suzaku does not meet his gaze. "Oh," Suzaku says quietly. "It's about…" He makes eye contact with Lelouch, his face the quintessence of abject shame "Isn't it?"

Lelouch's eyes widen, and the words come out in a rush. "No! Of course not. The past is the past, Suzaku. I'm just grateful that you saved Nunnally. If…if it weren't for you…" He trails off, unable to finish. Luckily, Suzaku understands. His face is awash with relief, and the corners of his mouth turn up just a little.

"Is it about Shirley?"

…That is completely out of left field. "What?"

"Um." Suzaku scratches the back of his neck. "Milly told me that you and Shirley got into some sort of big fight, and now you're pretending to be strangers." His expression turns earnest. "I know she liked you a lot, Lelouch, and if there's anything I can do to help patch things up—"

Lelouch cuts him off. "No, it's not that at all. It's…" It's now or never, and she promised. Promised to be there at his beck and call.

(And she would never _ever_ balk at the possibility of blood).

"There's someone I want you to meet," Lelouch says, practically spitting out the words. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he wonders if she hears it, relishes it. "Her name is C.C."

Sure enough, C.C. makes an entrance, walking out of the kitchen as soon as Lelouch says her name as if she is some sort of doll that needs a button pushed in order to perform. And a doll is a befitting comparison because she is detached and vibrant. Her lips are painted red, and her golden eyes are glassy. She's wearing some sort of gothic Lolita get-up, and Lelouch wants to scream because he thought it would go unsaid that she would wear her original outfit so Suzaku could immediately recognize her…

"You're the girl from Shinjuku!" Suzaku shouts, standing up, eyes wide and protuberant and alarmed. "And…and I saw you at Narita!"

Well, that took no time. Lelouch had expected shock, disbelief, maybe even Suzaku attempting to convince himself that C.C. was a mirage or a doppelganger or a practical joke.

And…Narita? How can that have been? Suzaku had said he was in the engineering department. There would have been no reason for him to be there unless…

"How observant," C.C. says tonelessly, and she plops down right on the settee Lelouch is currently sitting on. Although she appears outwardly bored, there's a slight anxiousness about her body, as if she's confining her movements.

Suzaku's movements, on the other hand, are unconfined. Tremors run through his body, and he points a finger at C.C. "I…I saw you with—"

Zero," Lelouch murmurs. His mind is howling because _Suzaku is the pilot Suzaku is __**the pilot**__ and they were supposed to be together and Suzaku was supposed to protect Nunnally and Lelouch was supposed to protect Suzaku and this isn't supposed to happenthisisn'tsupposedtobehappening._

But Lelouch's voice is very, very calm as he speaks. Flat and deadpan. "You pilot that white knightmare," he says, looking Suzaku straight in the eye. "Why did you lie?"

Suzaku shoots Lelouch a look of disbelief. "Why did _I_ lie?" He shakes his head. "Lelouch, what the hell is going on? Are you an ally of the Black Knights?"

"More than that."

The injury in Suzaku's eyes is palpable. "…You are one."

"Yes," Lelouch says, voice soft yet firm. "I'm Zero."

Suzaku breaks at that. He was at the precipice, and now he is smithereens. The look of injury is replaced with a blank stare. He falls back on the settee and covers his face with his hands. "You…no…"

Lelouch could move forward and comfort him, but he does not. He talks as if giving a discourse. "When I saved you from your execution, I called you a fool, and you said I reminded you of an old friend." Suzaku shakes. "When we first met seven years ago, I told you I would destroy Britannia. This really isn't as much of a surprise as it should be."

When Suzaku uncovers his face, his eyes are red and waterlogged. "You're unbelievable," he hisses.

Suzaku's tear-stained face takes Lelouch aback, so he masks his discomfort with a laugh. "You're going to have be more specific, Suzaku," he says, and there's malice in his voice. "Is it the fact that I'm actually putting my plans into action? Going against this worthless country? The reality that I'm actually making a difference?"

"But you're not!" Suzaku shouts, standing up again, his hands clenching into fists. His nostrils are flared, and his mouth twists into a horrible scowl. "Results obtained through such tactics are meaningless! What you're doing is cowardly!"

Lelouch stands up too, snarling. "And what you're doing isn't? Hiding behind Britannia and forsaking your own people just because they're weaker!"

"That has nothing to do with it! Britannia can be changed from within! Nothing good comes from this sort of rebellion."

Lelouch shakes his head. "Do you even listen to yourself? What gives Britannia the right to conquer countries? Are you saying the Japanese people should just take it?"

"You're twisting my words!" Suzaku grabs Lelouch by the collar and holds him like a rag doll; Lelouch doesn't even flinch. "It's just the way you're doing things…"

"Waging war means I have to fight and kill my enemy combatants. It's not as if I've involved civilians."

"What about Shirley's father?" Suzaku demands, his grip tightening. "What did he ever do? It's because of the Black Knights that he died from that landslide at Narita."

Lelouch had prepared himself for _that_ blow, so he's able to smile easily. "War involves unexpected casualties. It's not any different from Britannian soldiers opening fire on unarmed Japanese," he says, his smile broadening. "While I regret what happened to Shirley's father, I do not regret my actions."

"You're disgusting," Suzaku's mutters, his face an amalgamation of emotions: grief, anger, betrayal, and something else that Lelouch cannot place.

But Lelouch is able to look past Suzaku's overt misery, compartmentalize it. It's nothing more than a reaction, and Lelouch must plow forward. "This has nothing to do with me," Lelouch says, and he can feel his smile stretching so far that his cheeks may crack. His face may splinter and shatter. "No, Suzaku, this has everything to do with _you_. I understand it. It's because you killed your father. That's why you grovel at the feet of the Britannian Empire. You're just too pathetic to face up to what you've done." The final strike.

When Suzaku brings his fist back, Lelouch is not surprised. He shuts his eyes and awaits the blow. Anticipates it even.

It never comes.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to punch you sooner."

Lelouch opens his eyes, and there is no angry, wounded boy in front of him. The eyes that gaze back are gentle and green, like a calm sea. Suzaku's face is placid and tranquil, and he wears a dopey, lopsided smile.

There's blood trickling down Suzaku's neck, but he doesn't notice. He gazes at Lelouch fondly as if he can gaze at him for all eternity. He doesn't even budge when the blood is licked off him.

Lelouch expected C.C. to regard Suzaku as if he was the most succulent thing imaginable, but she does not. Her expression is inquisitive, eerily tender, and, when she places a hand on Suzaku's wrist, the gesture is oddly gentle.

C.C. does not say a word to Lelouch. Instead, she leads Suzaku away like he's a child (or a zombie or someone lobotomized), and he follows eagerly, turning his affectionate gaze away from Lelouch.

Lelouch follows them. They end up in his bedroom. The lights are on, and Lelouch wishes C.C. would turn them off. The pitch-blackness could envelope him like a blanket, and he could try to make his thoughts go blank. But no, everything is bright and recognizable, and the light hits Suzaku's face head-on.

C.C. props Suzaku up against the side of the bed like a dummy and kneels beside him, beginning to unbutton his tunic. Then his shirt. Lelouch can't tear his eyes away, but he wishes he had when he sees the lattice of yellow, purple, red, and blue that mars Suzaku's skin. More unbuttoning. The bruises stretch far. C.C. brushes her fingers against them, but Suzaku's smile does not waver. It's wide and guileless, and it twists Lelouch's gut.

Suddenly, C.C. bites into Suzaku, and Lelouch should be prepared. He should be prepared because this is the deal, but he has to swallow back vomit. C.C. never was a quiet feeder, and Lelouch wants to press his hands against his ears, but they will not move from his sides. He wants to look away, but Suzaku meets his gaze and just stares at him with such unadulterated warmth.

"Despair," C.C. says, lifting her head. The tips of her hair are died red. Drops stain her skirt. It fills her mouth. "You want a taste?"

Before Lelouch can respond, C.C. crosses the distance between him and kisses him and no. _No._ Suzaku's blood is in his mouth. It's staining his lips and teeth and tongue, and Lelouch gasps and tries to spit it out. But it's no use. C.C. kisses him harder, forcing him to swallow it until all he can taste is iron and bitterness.

And then Lelouch is kissing back because it's easier than pulling away. It's not about proving a point or getting revenge. He just doesn't want to look back. Not now when it's easier to move his tongue against hers and press against her body and grind against her thighs. And she doesn't protest when he pins her to the floor and moves against her because it's easier than thinking or comprehending. He only pulls back to catch snatches of air, and then he's back to it, rubbing against her legs and not looking at her face.

(Because there may be tears and snot on her cheeks, but they won't be hers. Never _hers_.)

It only stops when Lelouch peaks, whimpers, and goes very, very still. He wheezes and realizes he holds ruffles in one fist and a garter in another. Everything snaps into focus then. C.C. lies beneath him, outfit rumpled and make-up streaked. Suzaku sits across from him, shirt unbuttoned, smiling genially with a blood-splattered face and neck. And Lelouch is on his knees, trembling in semen-stained pants.

"You have four minutes," C.C. says.

* * *

When Suzaku awakes, he looks confused and disoriented as he turns this way and that, trying to place his surroundings.

"You're in my room, Suzaku," Lelouch says, fond exasperation seeping into his voice. "In my bed."

The look of alarm in Suzaku's eyes would have been comical. "What?" Suzaku peels back the comforter. "Why?"

Lelouch chuckles and sets down the novel he was reading. "I had no idea your work took so much out of you." He stands up from his seat situated from across the bed. "When I offered that you could spend the night, you practically collapsed on my bed."

Almost instantaneously, Suzaku is out of the bed, standing ramrod straight, patting down his hair. "I apologize, Lelouch," he says, flushing in embarrassment. "I shouldn't take advantage of you like this."

Lelouch snorts. "Take advantage of me? Suzaku, you're welcome here whenever you wish. I don't mind at all."

Suzaku smiles in relief, but his cheeks are still tinged pink. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Suddenly, his expression turns thoughtful, considering, and Lelouch feels his blood run cold.

"…What is it?"

"It's…nothing," Suzaku says, giving a sheepish shake of his head. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Lelouch persists.

"Just…" Suzaku sighs. "Just how much you've changed in these seven years."

A silence stretches, and Suzaku stares at his hands. Lelouch stares straight ahead, feeling numb.

"…You've changed the most, though."

The sorrow in Suzaku's eyes is truly something to behold.

* * *

Lelouch is glad when Suzaku says he can't spend the night and leaves with an uneasy smile but no questions. He _isn't_ glad that C.C. comes out of hiding as soon as the door is locked.

"At least some good came from this," she says softly. Even with the mess of makeup and blood on her face, Lelouch is still able to catch her look of concern. "You now know who you're up against."

He knows things have gone off the deep end when the leech starts showing empathy. Tries to reassure him. It's the true embodiment of hopelessness.

"Yes," Lelouch mutters, trying to ignore the cracks in his voice. "If he dies in battle, then his blood will be on my hands and no one else's."

"Ignorance isn't bliss, Lelouch," she whispers, and she isn't even trying to hide her revolting, repulsive, _disgusting_ sympathy when she places her hand on his. "At least not in your case."

Lelouch doesn't answer. His body shakes, and his lips tremble. Hands quiver. Eyes widen.

C.C. nearly looks disturbed when he lets loose a peal of laughter.


	3. Charnel

**Insatiable**

**Warning(s): **Blood sucking (both consensual and...not so consensual). Exactly what it says on the tin. I've also decided to change the rating to 'M' as a precaution. Also, FYI, there will be explicit sexual content in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Code Geass.

**AN: **Wow. Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! It really means a lot. :) Also, I changed the "romance" tag to "angst" because Mr. Nox and Aquila made me realize that this story isn't all that romantic. _**However,**_ there _will_ definitely be quite a bit of Lelouch/C.C. interaction in the next chapter. This chapter is from C.C.'s POV and gives quite a bit of her backstory, so I hope you all find that interesting.

Also, thank you, Seynee for correcting my grammatical error in the last chapter. I appreciate it. :)

* * *

Lelouch creates a feast with a single thought.

C.C. has witnessed one too many massacres to be horrified. She is desensitized to it by now. Mao killed many. Tortured people both emotionally and physically – skewered their limbs while whispering their secrets. She's had lovers who slaughtered entire nations. Men bent on war and bloodshed.

But this…

Sure enough, her suspicions are confirmed when she spots him hunched over, head in his hands. He does not even raise his head to acknowledge her.

"Euphie…" A whimper – not his strong, confident voice as he addressed the Japanese people, denounced the Massacre Princess who ordered their genocide.

"You lost control of your power," C.C. says.

He does not respond. C.C. walks toward him and takes his lowered head in both of her hands, feels his shaking body.

"Don't forget that we have our contract," she says. "I promise to stay with you."

She has lost track of how many times she has said those six words.

* * *

"Lelouch, you have to go after Nunnally." She takes out the blade.

"But what about—"

"I'll be fine. I'm already dead, after all." She smiles as she slices open her wrist.

His eyes widen. "What are you—"

"Hush." She licks the blood flowing down the palm of her hand and then kisses him, forcing the substance down his throat. It's reminiscent of a mother bird feeding worms to her hatchlings, except there's some softness. A slight warmth.

Before they part ways, she spots some of her blood on his face, and she can't help but smile fondly. She's not completely alone. Not for now, anyway.

And then she's _plummeting, plummeting, plummeting—_

* * *

"Get up!

"Mhmm," C.C. mumbles into her pillow, wincing as sheets are yanked off her body.

"I said _get up!_"

"Why?"

"…What?"

"What's the point?" C.C. addresses her pillow. "If we're on standby, there's no reason to waste precious energy."

Silence. C.C. sighs and hugs her pillow. Suddenly, something grabs her leg, and she finds herself twirling midair before falling on her butt. On the dirty apartment floor covered with bras and underwear.

"That wasn't very nice," C.C. says, rubbing her eyes before looking up.

Kallen glowers down at her, eyebrows furrowed and hands on hips. C.C. may have found the expression cute if the other girl wasn't being so obnoxious.

"Well, that's why," Kallen mutters. "You need to train."

"And if I refuse?" C.C. smiles. She doesn't even need to ask.

"Then I'm not feeding you." Kallen's voice is matter-of-fact.

Even though C.C. tends to bellyache about it (mainly to see what shade of red Kallen's face will turn), training isn't all that terrible. C.C. isn't like Lelouch who tires easily and grows faint at even the thought of arduous exercise. She knows how to use a gun and can hold her own in hand-to-hand combat.

But that isn't enough for Kallen. Apparently, there's always room for improvement. Kallen is very strong. Demonstrably stronger than Lelouch. Much stronger than C.C. But while she's Suzaku's equal in her knightmare frame, he can overpower her physically, and C.C. knows that she hates herself for it. When she mentions it to Kallen, the other girl snarls.

"I'm getting there." Kallen's eyes narrow. "And that's not as important as getting _you_ ready."

Because C.C. is essential. She's the catalyst, the piece that sets things in locomotion. Other Black Knights are dispensable because, without C.C., they have no Zero. No leader. No hope. Without her, Lelouch is merely an arrogant schoolboy with locked away memories and a fake past. If she's captured while attempting to restore Lelouch's memories, their operation will fall through.

In a nutshell, she's _needed._

Today, Kallen makes her practice by hitting a punching bag that is oozing stuffing. Then, C.C. has to punch Kallen who is basically a juicy blood bag, but, unfortunately, she never starts oozing blood. Sometimes C.C. wishes she would burst open like a piñata, but the only thing that bursts is her temper when she knocks down C.C. five times in a row.

"You're not even trying anymore," Kallen snaps, wiping sweat off her forehead with her arm. "Put more power into your punches."

But C.C. doesn't put more power into her punches. Instead, she kicks Kallen in the gut, causing the girl to lose her footing and knock into a desk. The sharp edge punctures her. Scratches her hip. C.C. knows this because she smells the tang, and it's mouth-watering.

Although she doesn't look happy, Kallen quickly regains her footing, frowning and rubbing at her hip. C.C. expects her to be angrier, but she merely looks slightly disgruntled. "I never said you could kick," Kallen mumbles.

"You never said I couldn't." When humans first smell something, the scent weakens after a few minutes. For vampires, it's the opposite. It grows _stronger._ Kallen is barely bleeding, and C.C. has to restrain herself from salivating. She's not shameless enough to act like a complete barbarian, after all. "You know, I _am_ your ill older sister. It wouldn't hurt to feed me once in a while."

When Kallen and C.C. moved into the apartment together, it was crucial that they were incognito. The "ill sister" ploy worked well since it explained why two seemingly young girls were skipping school. The ill sister was too insalubrious to attend school, and the healthy sister had to care for the ill one. C.C. took on the ill role since Kallen was apparently exhausted of her sick girl cover. C.C. also thought it would allow her to laze around more often, but that definitely wasn't the case.

Kallen rolls her eyes. "You're going a little overboard with that whole thing. You don't need to cough up a storm whenever we're in public."

"You told me to be convincing." The aroma is pervasive, unyielding. C.C. blinks. "So are you going to feed me or not?"

"Whatever." Kallen folds her arms over her chest and leans against the desk.

C.C. moves toward her, and the first thing she does is lick her neck. She can taste the salt of cooling perspiration and the warmth of blood flowing beneath skin. Kallen noticeably stiffens. Her spine becomes erect. She feigns an expression of boredom, but she isn't fooling anyone. Especially not C.C.

C.C. bites down, and the rush of blood is instant and gratifying. Kallen isn't the best. Lelouch and Suzaku taste much better than her, but C.C. will take what she can get. She isn't able to feed nearly as often now that she's in hiding.

In a way, it's humorous how similar Kallen and Lelouch really are or at least pretend to be. Lelouch (fruitlessly) attempts to conceal his trepidation in many situations – including when C.C. feeds. Kallen is the same way. She imitates the mien of a soldier, but her act is ersatz at best. C.C. can feel her minute trembles. Hear her clambering heart.

(Marianne was one of those exceptions. She thought herself invincible and snickered at danger while ridiculing death. Whenever C.C. needed to feed, Charles balked, but Marianne offered herself up willingly.

She brushed her long, dark hair off her nape, revealing pale skin. Not unmarred, though. It was like all human skin – fragile and breakable beyond belief. But Marianne bared it like teeth.

"Be done in a flash," she whispered, voice sultry and breathy, "and I'll give you a treat." And she never said this out of fear. Instead, it was out of sport. This was just a game, and she was goading C.C. on.

Sometimes there was a treat. Most often there wasn't. Marianne always counted it as a triumph when C.C. fed hastily, and that was the main reason C.C. did.

The foremost thing C.C. remembers was the aftermath. Marianne sighed and smiled wide and then pressed the palm of her hand against the back of her bloody neck. She brought it up close to her face, and her eyes brightened. Then she licked it off her fingers like melted chocolate).

Kallen quivers, snapping C.C. out of her thoughts. Blood pools on the girl's neck; it shimmers from the overhead light.

_Were you thinking about me?_ Marianne asks merrily. _Do you miss me?_

C.C. doesn't answer.

* * *

The room looks like a bomb went off. Underwear and half eaten cups of ramen litter the floor. Clothes fall wherever they are taken off. Kallen also leaves her weights and boxing gloves wherever she feels like it. One time C.C. awoke to an extra 50 lbs. in her bed.

"Most of this mess is yours, you know," C.C. says, flipping through a tabloid (the theories concerning Zero are truly outrageous) while sitting on her bed. "It probably accounts for my failing health."

"Shut up," Kallen snaps, plucking a towel off the floor. C.C. raises an eyebrow when the girl slams the bathroom door shut.

As soon as C.C. hears the water running, she pulls out the pictures from the bedside drawer. The remnants of the not-captured Black Knights are doing surveillance, and Urabe sent the snapshots in hopes that one of them could find anything (or anyone) suspicious.

The only person out of place is Rolo Lamperouge, the shy younger faux-brother of Lelouch. In a way, it's almost amusing. Charles sent Lelouch a pet and a spy twofold.

Recently, Kallen had asked if Rolo possessed a similar power to Lelouch. C.C. honestly doesn't know. V.V. had taken over the Order, after all. However, the boy definitely has some sort of specialized training, so separating him from Lelouch is imperative.

C.C. flips through the pictures: Lelouch teaching Rolo to play the piano, Lelouch and Shirley tutoring Rivalz, Lelouch humiliating some noble in a chess match by stripping him of his possessions. Such mundane scenes. Lelouch really hasn't changed at all.

The final picture isn't candid. The entire student council (sans Kallen and Nina) strikes a pose: Shirley smiles sweetly; Rivalz has an arm around Lelouch's shoulders; Milly holds Rolo bridal style, and the boy's face is bright red.

…C.C. wonders if Kallen misses them.

"C.C.! Where did you put my shampoo?" Kallen calls out from the shower.

"I don't know," C.C. calls back. "I don't keep track of your things."

"You don't keep track of anything!"

"You're not much better." C.C. smirks. "Remember that time you thought my bra was yours? I can't believe you thought you could fit into that."

"That's because you throw all your stuff around." Kallen is blushing. C.C. knows it, and it only serves to bring attention to her gnawing hunger. "Oh, um…"

"…You find it?"

"Well…well it was behind _your_ body wash!"

C.C. sighs and continues flipping through the pictures. A few minutes later, she hears the shower click off, and Kallen emerges, wrapped in a towel, the steam flushing her skin.

"Snooping like usual, huh?"

"What do you mean?" C.C. asks, staring at the pinkish tinge that spreads from Kallen's nose to cheeks. "Urabe gave these to us."

"Yeah, for _intelligence_ purposes."

And she's like Lelouch in that respect as well. Always so disgruntled. Kallen's eyebrows are furrowed, and her hands are on her hips, and…the towel no longer _covers_ her hips.

C.C. savors this image for a moment, watching as beads of water drip from Kallen's hair to her shoulders, down her arms, down her waist, past her thighs and shins before pooling at her feet.

Then, she smiles and says, "It's not the best idea to leave wet towels on the floor." She focuses her attention on Kallen's breasts. "I don't think our landlord would be happy if we started growing mold."

The change is almost instantaneous. Kallen looks down, notices she's stark naked, squeaks, and then turns tomato-red. She sweeps up the towel and covers herself before rushing right back into the bathroom.

"Don't be embarrassed," C.C. says neutrally. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

(Except her eyes were dead. Hazy and obscure).

Kallen doesn't answer. C.C. sighs and sets the pictures down before lying down on the bed, tucking her hands behind her head. All she can think about is Kallen's blushing face and her own all-consuming hunger.

* * *

It's amusing how Kallen dresses more modestly that night. She usually opts for a sports bra and shorts, but, instead, she wears pajamas. C.C. watches her as she crawls into her twin bed and lies on top of the covers.

Kallen never falls asleep immediately, and C.C. doesn't need to, so they spend long hours in silence. It is debatable whether or not the silence is companionable, though. Kallen almost always looks troubled.

Sometimes C.C. breaks the silence, makes a crack and allows it to splinter off. Tonight is one of these times. "Do you miss them?" she asks, lying belly down on her bedspread, holding her face in her hands. "The student council. Even though they're Britannian."

Kallen sighs but turns over to face C.C. She looks tried. "That doesn't matter." She shakes her head. "It doesn't really matter if I ever go back to school."

"How noble." Kallen shoot her a death-glare, but C.C. merely continues, unruffled. "Want to play Truth or Dare?"

Kallen raises an eyebrow. "…What?"

"Don't teenage girls play games like that?"

Kallen snorts. "More like middle school girls." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Why do you want to play?"

"Boredom."

"Of course," Kallen says, rolling her eyes. "Why would I expect anything else?"

"What did _you_ expect?"

"Fine," Kallen says. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," C.C. says without missing a beat.

Kallen's eyebrows furrow. "Okay, um." She bites her lip, wracking her mind, and C.C. detects a faint pinkish hue spreading across her cheeks. This is certain to be interesting. "It's about…Lelouch." She forces the last word out as if it's a curse.

Of course. "What do you want to know?" C.C. asks, lips curved up. "I'm an open book."

Kallen snorts once again, but she looks agitated. "…What…what kind of relationship do…er, _did_ you have with him?"

"I thought I already told you. Our relationship is one of mutual benefits. I give him power, and, in return, he promised to grant me my wish." C.C. explained it once before when Kallen was stifling tears and gritting her teeth.

Kallen looks at the ground. "Yeah, but…" She trails off.

"Oh, I see how it is," C.C. says. "Tamaki finally got to you."

Kallen looks up, eyes wide. "What? No!"

"We've never had sex if that's what you're worried about." At least C.C. didn't consider Lelouch dry humping her leg like some horny mutt as sex. Perhaps he thought it qualified, but it hadn't really mattered because he never touched her afterward.

"…I don't care about that kind of thing."

Kallen blushes and looks off to the side, and Marianne makes a quip about how C.C. surrounds herself with virginal teenagers. As if it's her own doing. C.C. huffs and says, "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare." No hesitation there.

C.C. really isn't all that surprised, but she is certain she will get a rise out of Kallen..."Kiss me."

It's difficult to look menacing when you resemble an indignant tomato. Kallen gapes for a few moments like a fish out of water before saying, "…You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm not."

Kallen's eyes narrow. "Forget it. I'm _not_ kissing you."

"Are you scared?" C.C. asks, voice teasing and light. "I thought the Black Knights' ace would be prepared for anything."

"I'm prepared for what's necessary." Kallen locks eyes with C.C. "It's not as if kissing you will bring Zero back."

C.C. stares at Kallen for a long moment. "…You've never been kissed." It's fairly obvious.

"What?" Kallen is easy to fluster. Too easy. "That's…that's none of your business!"

"Fine. I'll give you a trade-off." C.C. smiles. "Instead, you can tell me the closest you've come to kissing someone."

For a moment, Kallen looks like she's about to tell C.C. off. Her eyebrows are furrowed, eyes narrowed, mouth a downward line….

But instead…"At one of Milly's sleepovers." Kallen grabs a pillow and hugs it.

"That crazy student council president Lelouch always complains about."

Kallen nods. "She invited me when I was first inducted into the student council. We also played Truth or Dare, and she dared me to kiss Shirley." She makes a face. "I didn't end up having to in the end. She decided it was "too cruel"—she makes air quotes—"since neither of us, you know…"

"There's never been a boy…?"

"No." Kallen's tone is adamant, leaving no room for argument. She's still holding onto the pillow with a vice-like grip. If it were a person, their head would have popped off by now.

"It's your turn," C.C. says, "but I'll save you the trouble of having to ask. _Truth._"

Kallen purses her lips as if she's mulling something over. Debating something. C.C. wonders if she's going to ask her _the_ question. The answer has evolved, but C.C. is certain of her response now.

"…When did you see me naked?"

…Maybe not. C.C. raises an eyebrow and says, "So that's really the question that's been eating at your mind?"

Kallen blushes for what must be the umpteenth time, but she manages not to stutter out her reply. "It just…" She pauses and frowns. "It…doesn't make sense. I don't know when you could have seen me. I mean, there was Su—" Kallen cuts herself off, and her eyes widen to the size of saucers. "Anyway! That's not important," Kallen continues, quickly backtracking. "The point I'm trying to make is…I just don't get it."

It would be so easy to lie. Or digress. Or form a non sequitur. But, then again, there's also no point. "Lelouch messed up," C.C. states.

"…Huh?"

"It's that hard to believe?" C.C. smiles; Kallen glares. C.C. pushes onward. "There are limitations to his power that he wasn't aware of when I first gave it to him. For one thing, he didn't know his power could only be used once. In a way, you were his first slip up. Apparently, when he learned you were a rebel, he questioned you under the influence of his power so you wouldn't remember." Kallen's cheeks are not even a little red now. Her face pales with every passing word as if C.C.'s voice is painting her white. "But he tried to use his power twice on you, and it wouldn't work. You were suspicious of him, and he was afraid that you would figure out his identity. So, he asked me to erase your memory of that incident."

C.C. pauses a moment to give Kallen a chance to speak, but the girl says nothing, her eyes wide and face ashen. C.C. proceeds.

"I have to bite someone in order to tamper with their memory, so it's not something that should be done in the open. When you had to take a shower after getting champagne spilt on yourself, Lelouch saw it as an opportunity." C.C.'s lips quirk up. "And that's how I saw you naked."

C.C. watches as a gamut of emotions flits over Kallen's face. As expected, she settles on anger at last, her mouth twisting into a grimace. She says, "I should hate you." And then she flicks the lights off. The room is cast into nigrescence, and Kallen's face becomes a patchwork of shadows.

"You don't?" C.C. asks.

There is a shifting of blankets and pillows, and the shadows wobble and quiver on Kallen's cheeks.

"What about Lelouch?" C.C. asks.

The only answer is the pervading silence.

* * *

For a while, Kallen makes a valiant effort of not speaking to C.C. If communication is absolutely necessary, she makes a grunting noise or points. C.C. doesn't mind the silent treatment that much. What she minds is not being fed. After a few days, she is absolutely ravenous.

On the fifth day, she gives in. How she managed to go for over a decade without blood at one point is beyond her. She certainly cannot do it now. At two in the morning, C.C. plans an ambush.

She watches the outline of Kallen's back, unmoving, and then tiptoes toward her, teeth bared. When C.C. crawls into her bed, the springs creak thunderously, but Kallen does not stir, and so C.C. begins to descend…

"Did he…" Kallen's voice. It's faint and muffled by the pillow, but C.C. knows what she hears.

"Did he what?" C.C. asks, pulling back.

"Lelouch." And that's when C.C. picks up on the hoarseness in Kallen's voice, the tone someone uses when they're attempting to jam sobs back down their throat. "Do you know if he…would he…" Kallen makes a choking noise, an almost-sob. "Just…never mind."

C.C. knows the question, and she is almost certain of the answer, but she says nothing. Instead, she runs her fingers through Kallen's hair and almost forgets about her hunger.

* * *

In the end, Kallen never asks _the_ question, so C.C. answers it in her head while lying in bed and not sleeping, watching the darkness until the sun rises and a new day begins.

In the beginning, she had only wanted to be loved.

It was a simple wish with dire consequences once she lost control. Everyone around her wore vapid expressions of adoration. They showered her with gifts and praise and nonsense.

It got to the point that anything said to her was meaningless. The only person who understood her was the bloodthirsty nun. At the outset, C.C. fed her the criminals – the grime of society. For a time she played the part of the petty vigilante.

She doesn't remember when she began to feed the nun the suitors. None of them were bad men, but C.C. simply ceased caring. All the proposals sickened her. All the sweet nothings. She began telling people that she killed the men – their sons, nephews, cousins, and friends. They still loved her. She could have danced on the graves, made revelry out of it, and they still would have loved her.

She finally couldn't take it any longer. The power she received was a curse – not a gift. C.C.'s only desire was to be rid of it, so she begged and beseeched the nun to take it away. She pleaded on her hands and knees as sobs wracked her body.

And, to her surprise, the nun agreed with a smile. She told C.C. that she loved her and that she could remove her power for only a little something in return…

(…_her humanity_. And that was the proof that the nun was not under the same trance as all the others because she did not love C.C. enough to kill her).

The first stage of C.C.'s new "life" was a blur. One thing she remembers was gnawing hunger – powerful and all-encompassing. Also the nun's soothing touches, her voice telling her that it would be okay, that the hunger would wane.

It did, eventually. The nun took her hunting in the wilderness, and C.C. truly appreciated the fact that her power no longer existed when a man she knew tried to throw an axe at her head. She was free of all her burdens. No more kowtowing men. No more obsequious women. She was truly liberated.

The axe-thrower was C.C.'s first meal of many. She and the nun stayed at the fringe of the woods, picking off the stragglers and laggards. Never anyone of importance. Just exiles and men left for dead. They moved from village to village, never staying too long at one place, never drawing attention to their existences.

At least that was what C.C. thought.

Vampires are immortal, but they aren't invincible. They can be hunted and captured and imprisoned. C.C. learned that when the nun was shot while feeding on a lame manservant. They had been injured before, of course, but all of their attackers had run off in hysterics when they lived through fatal wounds or, if worst came to worst, they could always erase their memories.

This man, however, was prepared. He shot the nun repeatedly, put bullets in her arms and legs. She shrieked in agony, and C.C. just stood there, horrorstricken.

And then the man leveled the gun at C.C.

The manservant's blood was on the nun's lips, but C.C.'s face was clean. C.C. took one last look at the nun, at her contorted face and body, and then she ran toward the man.

Thank you, she said. Thank you for saving me.

That horrible woman—no, _monster_ had killed her brother and had been stringing her around for some time. If it weren't for the man, she would have been next. Thank you thank you thank you, she whispered in the man's ear, embracing him, weeping without tears.

The nun screamed. No! That girl is a liar! She is the same as me. She isn't human. The nun grabbed onto C.C.'s arm with her blood-streaked hands. Please, girl. But C.C. shook her off.

And the man believed C.C.

C.C. never crossed paths with the nun again, but she sometimes wondered what became of her. She knew her fate had to be worse than death. The man could have locked her up and threw her in the bottom of the sea for all she knew.

C.C. took her mind off her inexorable guilt with blood. She became less cautious, started feeding before nightfall, started getting _caught_. She was burned at the stake a few times. Occasionally drowned. Countless bullets pierced her skin.

Eventually, C.C.'s period of self-inflicted pain drew to a close when she realized how pointless it was, and she lived various lives. She was a noblewoman, thief, queen, servant, artist, mistress, spy, vagabond…

C.C. can't pinpoint an exact moment when she wanted to die, when ennui overwhelmed her. But she knows that was her second wish, and it was also the only one she gave up on.

She tried countless methods and read all the vampiric lore. She tried stakes and holy water and garlic cloves and silver bullets. None of it worked.

She tried starving herself. For over a decade she fasted, never tasting even a drop of blood. It was painful but not debilitating. So, she gave in again. If she wasn't going to die, then there was no point in denying herself.

But feeding brought her no joy. It was merely a means of sustenance. In the end, everyone who had known her – who had loved or hated her – eventually died. They were lost in the continuous flow of time while C.C. continued on. Even lengthy human lives were a bat of the eye to her. No one lasted. Everyone perished.

…But it didn't _have_ to be that way.

And so that is C.C.'s third and final wish: a partner in misery.


End file.
